


Name Changer

by LadyDrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Haircuts, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 06:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10237403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: Stiles and Derek adopt a little girl, and they're doing the whole parenting thing okay. But there might be a few areas where they'll just have to throw in the towel.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rieraclaelin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rieraclaelin/gifts).



> For Jessie. <3
> 
> Unbetaed but thoroughly spell-checked.

Her name is Louise.

 

She's two and a half years old, and Stiles and Derek have barely spent two minutes in the room with her at the foster home before both their hearts are clenched tight in each of her sticky little fists.

 

She's human, fearless, and thankfully so young still that she doesn't remember her biological parents at all, so she's all smiles and squeals as they carry her into her new home. All beginnings are hard, though, and human or not, Louise definitely takes them both through their paces.

 

”Lou, no, _no_ , don't pull the-! _Fuck_ ,” Stiles hisses before he can stop himself, and Louise waves around the now completely severed charger cord for his phone.

 

”Fuck!” she declares, and he slaps both hands over his face.

 

”God help me.”

 

Derek laughs his ass off when he comes home to a repeated chorus of _fuck fuck fuck_ , but it's less funny when she keeps saying it to literally everyone they meet. She also hears Derek say _crap_ all of once before that's added to her vocabulary too.

 

After that, they start a swear jar.

 

All in all, Louise is a pretty easy kid. She sleeps like a rock all night, and though she can scream pretty loudly, it's usually brief. Except for a few select situations.

 

They try swimming _once_.

 

Never. Again. She screams so hard and for so long that Stiles is pretty sure every single person in the pool is scarred for life. Or suffering from tinnitus. Derek definitely needs a long run in the woods after that, his sensitive hearing ripped to shreds after twenty minutes of piercing screams. Stiles can at least fix it with a couple of aspirin.

  
”Don't wanna,” she hiccups into his shoulder as they go back to the car, and Stiles is perfectly fine with that. It's not like he has the best associations with pools either.

 

”It's okay, sweetie, we won't do it if you don't want to,” he murmurs, and buckles her gently into the car seat.

 

Certain things are unavoidable, though, and Derek actually asks the dentist if there's any way they can leave a tip, because after fifteen minutes of Louise making her hatred of everything in the room abundantly clear, the guy really deserves some kind of medal. But he just chuckles, and lets her pick a sticker from the jar, like he hasn't just had his ears blown out. Not all heroes wear capes.

 

But they all survive, and the more awful crises they make it through, the more Stiles begins to feel like maybe he won't fuck everything up with this whole parenting deal.

 

One thing he can't seem to get a handle on, though, is hair. Louise has delicate, jet black and silky-smooth hair that's easy to comb out, but absolutely impossible to contain. It's beautiful, and after brushing she looks like a princess. For about two minutes. Then she moves around, and the shiny, slick strands get static and flighty. No hairbands or clips will stay in, sliding right out no matter what, leaving her constantly looking like she's been walking backwards through brisk winds.

 

So by the time her third birthday is coming up, Stiles has had enough of even trying.

 

”I mean it's not like she enjoys us fumbling around with it anyway,” Stiles says one night through a yawn, rubbing his cheek against Derek's chest hair. ”I don't think she cares, and I'm starting to actively hate it, so unless you have a really damn good reason to say no, we're getting it cut tomorrow.”

 

”Swear jar,” Derek rumbles, half asleep. ”Tomorrow.”

 

”Yeah. Any objections to the haircut?”

 

”Nope. Her hair is impossible.”

 

Stiles yawns again, and smiles against Derek's nipple. ”See, this is why we're great at this whole husbands thing. We agree on stuff.”

 

”Shhh,” Derek says, and Stiles shuts up and goes to sleep, because his husband makes a good point.

 

Derek is surprisingly lethargic in the mornings, so he usually spends the first hour or so of the day just prying his eyes slowly open and sipping coffee. Not only does this amuse Stiles greatly, it also suits him fine, since he's wide awake the second his brain turns on in the mornings. And since Louise is up with the sun they can have special daddy-daughter time in the early mornings, so it all works out.

 

And this morning Stiles is gonna get his little girl styled up. He drops last night's dollar in the swear jar on his way out, because Derek doesn't fool around with that, and Louise is all smiles as she waves goodbye to Papa. Yeah, it's gonna be good.

 

Except... it's not. It's so very much not.

 

Derek greets them with a raised eyebrow as Louise runs into his arms, hair still down to her shoulders and perfectly intact. “Heeey, cutie! I thought you were getting a haircut today?”

 

“Nuh uh,” Louise says. “Don't wanna. Scissors are bad.”

 

“Well, yeah, unless Daddy or Papa is there to hold them. But it's fine to have your hair cut with them.”

 

“Nuh uh,” she insists, and Stiles kicks the front door closed behind him, because _fuck this_.

 

“I need aspirin,” he grunts, and stomps to the kitchen while Derek bounces Louise gently on his arm. It doesn't take more than a minute until Derek follows him, watching from the doorway as Stiles swallows down the pills. “Don't even start,” Stiles snaps. He can _feel_ the judgmental eyebrow without even looking. “It was like the pool all over again. I don't think we're allowed in the mall for at least a few years now.”

 

“I'm sure it wasn't _that_ bad.”

 

Stiles sets down his water glass with a clank, and glares at Derek. “If you're so sure, then _you_ can get whatever we need from the mall for the next year, because I'm not about to brave the wrath of Rocko and his merry band of stylists, chasing me with hairbrushes and flattening irons.”

 

Derek snorts, and Stiles crosses his arms over his chest. “Laugh it up, fuzz butt, it was a _nightmare_.”

 

“Butt, Papa!” Louise giggles, and Derek blows a huge raspberry on her cheek.

 

“ _You're_ a butt,” he tells her playfully, and it's almost enough to make Stiles' shoulders unclench. _Almost_.

 

“Nuh uh! _You're_ a butt!”

 

“No, _you!_ ”

 

She squirms and squeals until he lets her down, and Stiles is left in the kitchen with his lingering headache as Derek chases their laughing daughter through the house.

 

“It _can't_ have been that bad,” Derek claims later that night as he's pulling off his socks before bed. “She seemed happy enough.”

 

“I'm telling you, it was bad. Probably worse than the dentist.”

 

Derek shudders. “Okay, now I _know_ you're exaggerating.”

 

“Am not. It was hellish. Our sweet baby girl is secretly a hell-hound, I shit you not. Rocko damn near lost a finger when he tried to go near her.”

 

“Swear jar. But maybe she was just scared of him? He _is_ pretty colorful.”

 

Stiles flops down on the bed and starfishes his arms out wide. “I'd buy that if she didn't react the exact same way to anyone who approached her with scissors. Marla, Julie, Miles... hell, we even tried a fake-out where I took the scissors and pretended to cut it, but no. It is _not_ happening. Our daughter will be Rapunzel from now on, might as well get used to it.”

 

Derek crawls up and gives him a tiny peck on the lips. “Just admit you wimped out,” he says, grinning like an asshole, and Stiles slaps him on the back of the head in retaliation.

 

“Dick. Next time you take her. Then we'll see who's a wimp, _Mr. heightened werewolf senses_. And yes, I'll put money in the jar tomorrow.”

 

“Good boy,” Derek says, and gets another slap for it. “Was it really so bad?” he asks once they're done horsing around, settling down with his head on Stiles' shoulder.

 

“It was awful,” Stiles sighs, and noses into Derek's perfectly stylable hair. “I'm not kidding, Louise Hale is now Rapunzel. I'm applying for her name to be changed tomorrow.”

 

Derek just laughs, because he's a dick. But he'll see. Oh, he will see.

 

Louise's third birthday goes off without a hitch, and Lydia brings them some kind of conditioner that is like magic and makes hair bands stay in. It makes everyday handling of her flighty locks slightly more bearable.

 

But, inevitably, Louise's adventurous nature gets her into trouble, and after a sticky encounter with a wad of gum she loses a significant chunk of hair. There's really no other choice than getting it cut now, and Stiles cheers internally as Derek keeps his promise, and takes Louise to the hairdresser.

 

Less than an hour later, Stiles hears the front door open, and he smirks around his mouthful of Doritos.

 

“Hi, guys. Have a good time?” he calls, and gets a frustrated noise in return. Louise comes in, cuddling her Captain America plush, and her hair looks exactly the same crooked shape as it did when they left. Her face is a little puffy, but she calmly climbs up on the couch next to Stiles and asks for chips. He hands her some, since he figures she's earned it.

 

Derek, however...

 

“Not a word,” he growls, plopping down on the couch too, wincing every time anyone bites down of a chip. “Not... _one_ word.”

 

“Chip?” Stiles offers obnoxiously, holding the bag towards him, and Derek glares.

 

“Papa gotta put money in the swear jar,” Louise informs the room, and Stiles completely breaks down into helpless laughter.

 

“Daddy? Papa said Rapunzel is my new name. But can I be Pocahontas instead? She has hair like me.”

 

“Sure, baby,” Stiles hiccups after another burst of laughter. “But you can keep Louise too, if you want.”

 

“Okay. But I like Pocahontas. She's pretty.”

 

Stiles nods and pets his daughter's impossible hair. “Just like you. No matter what your hair looks like. Right, Papa?” Stiles prompts and nudges Derek with an elbow. It takes another glare at Stiles before Derek gets up, moves to Louise's other side and puts and arm around her.

 

“That's right. I'm sorry, Lou. I promise we won't go to the hairdresser again.”

 

Her eyes widen and her head swivels around to face Derek. “Ever?!”

 

“Not if you don't want to.”

 

“Yay!” she shrieks, and even Derek's bad mood evaporates under the ensuing hug assault, coupled with wet kisses on his beard. “Thank you, Papa!”

 

Stiles just smirks at him from the other end of the couch. “Rapunzel, huh?”

 

“Not. A. Word.”

 

End.

 

 


End file.
